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“Okay then, gotta tell you that I’m a bed hog,” he said, gently moving them to a silent rhythm. “I also poke my nose into everything that interests me. I’m stubborn. It’s well known that I don’t have much of a temper, but there have been occasions where I’ve punched first and asked questions later. And, although it may look like I’m the master of self-control, I think I’ve reached the limit where you’re concerned. As for me being too sexy, whatever I’m doing, I intend to keep on doing because I want to tempt you. I want you to touch me.”
Harvard lowered his head until his lips were against her ear. A shiver went through her at the feeling of his breath against her skin, and she felt like she was melting inside. “We’re never gonna stop dancing, Rachel, not if I have my way. So you can forget about that rule. As for your other frustrations, I’m pretty sure I have the solution for those too.”
Damn, he was far too cocky for her own good. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
His cheek brushed against hers, and then their mouths were touching. Just a whisper of a touch. Yet it was enough to make all of her concerns disappear. She waited, aching to know what he’d do next. Hoping it would be everything she needed to calm the raging unrest within. To still the hunger inside of her that had been there since Joe’s and Julia’s wedding in Peru, when she’d first told Harvard to go to hell.
“No, Rachel. I haven’t been sure of anything since I met you.” His words were butterfly kisses against her lips. “All I know is that I’ve been waiting forever to kiss you.”
As her knees weakened, she was glad his hold on her was firm and strong. “You’ve only known me a few months.”
“And yet, I’ve been waiting a lifetime.” And with that, his lips gently brushed over hers. “Put your arms around my neck.”
It was the same order he’d given on the dancefloor, and again, she found herself complying without a second thought. “What now?” she whispered.
“Whatever you want,” was the reply.
“Then show me if you kiss as perfectly as you do everything else.”
“When you put it that way, it makes me feel as though I have to screw this up to get you to like me.”
“Poor you. Such a dilemma. Now stop talking and kiss me.”
Her eyes drifted closed as she felt his smiling lips against hers. And then, while they swayed in place in the middle of her living room, his mouth moved over hers. Sweet, gentle, teasing kisses. Small playful nips with his teeth. The sensual slide of his tongue against hers before the kiss turned languorous, and the world disappeared entirely.
Rachel’s hands stroked up the back of his neck, caressing the bare skin at the base of his skull where hair would normally be. Even that was sexy. She felt his muscles flex as he deepened the kiss. Heard herself whimper with delight as their bodies moved together in a sensual dance. Those strong, capable hands of his traced over her back. And that scent. The one that haunted her in every single room of her house. That scent made her heady with desire.
Slowly, reluctantly, he eased them apart, and Rachel rested her forehead on his chest. His hands flexed on her hips as they stood motionless together.
“You even kiss perfectly,” she accused. “Which means we can never do that again.”
“You wanna tell me why?” Harvard said softly, sounding as distracted as she was.
And because her brain was scrambled and her focus still on the hum of pure ecstasy vibrating through her body, she gave him the truth. “Because you make me feel out of control and exposed.”
He didn’t reply; they just stood there qui
etly in each other’s arms for a few precious moments.
“Go get changed,” he said, breaking the spell he’d woven around her. “The team will be here soon for our meeting.”
Feeling both reluctance and relief, Rachel stepped away from him to retrieve her handbag. “I’m going to chalk up what just happened to the stress of this investigation,” she said as she headed for the staircase. “Let’s never talk about this again.”
“No, talking definitely isn’t what we need to do,” he said with heavy meaning.
Rachel didn’t answer. All her focus was on walking away without letting him see just how unsteady she was on her feet.
She managed to project an air of cool indifference until her bedroom door closed with Harvard on the other side. Sagging against it, she brushed her fingertips over sensitive lips. Dumb. It had been so dumb to kiss him. And yet, all she wanted was to do it again. But how could she? When each step that took them closer to each other also made her feel more vulnerable. Flattening a hand over her stomach, she fought the anxiety-induced nausea that spiked. One kiss would have to be enough. She couldn’t risk more.
It was time to put that kiss behind her and get on with the rest of her life. Which meant another damn meeting about their elusive thief. But first, she planned to shower, change, and empty her handbag, so it was ready for the morning. She took the bag to her bed and emptied the contents.
And that’s when she found it.
A second photo.
It was in the open-topped pocket on the rear of her bag. Anyone could have slipped it in there at any point during her day.
The photo fell to the silk-covered bedspread. And the shock of seeing it on her bed made her gag. She snatched it up and hastily backed across the room. The photo shaking in her hand, a strange feeling of detachment overtook her as she stared at the image.
